


my youth is yours

by transjamesbarnes



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Gen, but here have this, but someone wanted it and im not one to disappoint the People, de-aged steve anyone?, i LOVE kids can you tell from this, lil baby steve rogers, this is a Mess and itll never be finished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 08:13:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6846559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transjamesbarnes/pseuds/transjamesbarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is small. </p>
<p>Bucky's a little lost, a bit concerned, but mostly just extremely endeared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my youth is yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inediblesushi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inediblesushi/gifts).



> this ends SUPER abruptly because i haven't looked at it since july 6th, 2015 (which is lowkey crazy??? thx @ windows for sending me into an existential spiral regarding the passage of time). honestly i just dont have the time to write any more for this. 
> 
> so im done with it. c'est fini, mes amis.
> 
> um okay. business to take care of. this had art made for it?? bc anna is and will always be an angel: inediblesushi.tumblr.com/post/123170050176/for-timo-meier-whos-been-sharing-bits-of-their  
> (if/when you see this, anna; hello, dear!! you're still killing the game, ily!!)
> 
> title from troye sivan's "youth", bc i looked up some lyrics and found it fit. yeah, i know. im super deep.

Bucky wakes up to the sound of feet running down the hallway towards his room, and the first thing that registers in his mind is _Not Steve_.

Instinctively he shoves his hand under his pillow for the set of twin knives he keeps there, unsheathing them and twirling them until they rest comfortably in his hands. They feel good there, like an extension of his body, and while he's still on high alert, he immediately feels better. He sits up a bit, holding the unnatural position for a moment even though it strains at his muscles, and then he slips out of bed and crouches beside it. Both he and Steve have beds tall enough to hide them when they're crouched beside them, for exactly this reason, and Bucky watches the door.

The sound of footsteps has faded, and now it sounds like whoever-- or whatever-- is out there has paused. A small head peeks around the door frame, tiny hand holding on to the polished wood as the child scans the room.

He chides himself for having lost his touch when the first thing that comes to his mind is Who brings a baby on a stealth mission? He shakes his head.

"Buh-Buh! Buh-buh!" a tiny voice is saying quietly, not whispering but not at full volume either, and Bucky doesn't move, doesn't budge. A very small child draped in a huge white t-shirt, with rounded rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes, has their tiny fists balled up with courage as they step into Bucky's room, blinking at Bucky expectantly. Bucky waits for whoever must be following this child to come forward. While Bucky is waiting, the child toddles over to him.

"Buh-buh! Up!" they say, and Bucky lets his eyes flick down to them. He looks back up immediately, though, concerned still that someone or something will crash through his bedroom door. The child is still standing in front of him, and they stretch out their arms.

"Up," they demand, and Bucky lets his gaze move back down to them. They don't look like a threat. "Up!" the kid says again, and Bucky notices that they're wearing one of Steve's white shirts, and only that. The kid huffs, dropping their hands and stepping forward.

"Buh-buh," they say, almost patiently, and Bucky watches them reach up and put a small hand on Bucky's stubbly face, tracing the indents left from the pillow. They seem very concentrated, but they still say, "Goo'morn!"

Bucky looks towards the door again, but only to check now. His focus has shifted to the child, and he will possibly regret that very soon. Who is this kid? He shifts, spinning his knives until they're at a safer position, since if this kid truly isn't a threat, he doesn't really want them hurt. He also lowers himself a bit, moves to a less hostile position, to one that is more open.

"Where did you come from?" he asks, carefully, and flicks his gaze up towards the door again, as if him speaking would trigger an attack. The kid smiles at him fondly, like they think Bucky's a little dim, but doesn't answer. Bucky tries to soften his face, his voice, his tone.

"Huh? Where'd you come from, kiddo?" he asks again, hoping to get something out of them, and when the kid only tucks their body in against Bucky's instead of responding, he flounders a little. Bucky is still almost certain that this is some sort of ploy, a way to disarm him and make him more vulnerable. It's smart, if that's what it is. Maybe they sent Steve a child too? "I'm gonna go check out Steve's room."

The kid pulls back, makes a puzzled face. "Why?" they ask, and Bucky just gets up, stance still wary as he approaches the door. He makes a motion for the kid to stay where they are, and they do. He presses himself up against the wall beside the door, and checks the strategic mirrors they have set up in the hallways. _Clear_.

He motions for the kid to follow, and they do, padding quickly up to his side and curling their tiny hands into fists in the fabric of Bucky's pyjamas, and he rests a hand lightly on the top of their head as he slinks out of his room, keeping them close to him as he silently makes his way to Steve's room. The kid's lack of self-awareness makes them louder, so his silence is all for naught, but it comforts him.

When they get to Steve's room, Steve isn't there. The kid stays where they're left, beside a chest of drawers and obscured from view of the door, as Bucky checks the bathroom and closet, but still, no Steve. There are no signs that Steve left at any point, save for the messy bed sheets, and he wouldn't just up and leave, anyway, he'd write a note or something. Bucky is worried now.

The kid points to the big queen sized bed in the center of the room, smiling really big and proud. "Mine!" they say, and Bucky looks at them sharply.

"What's yours?" he asks, scanning the room again for anything out of place, anything that doesn't belong to either Steve or Bucky, something that might belong to the kid, but he comes up blank.

"No more big," they say seriously, not really answering the question, but Bucky hones in on one thing.

"Big?" he asks, and the kid nods, but then shakes their head.

"No big," they say, like it's obvious. "Before, all mine!" They throw their arms wide, but pause, seeming to think about it. "Still mine," they say, nodding with a smile and dropping their hands to their side again. "But no more big."

"That bed is yours?" Bucky asks, and the kid puts their thumb into their mouth, nodding. "Is this room yours too?" Another nod. "This is all yours," Bucky says, more of a statement than a question, but the kid makes an affirmative noise all the same. "But this is..." he trails off, looking at the kid properly, now.

"Steve? Is that your name?" Bucky asks, and the kid (Steve?) nods, giggling a little. Bucky feels panicky, but he tries not to let it show too much. His mind flashes back to the day before, their fight with that space queen, the one who'd blasted Steve with some ray or another. It hadn't seemed to wound him, but maybe...

"Are you Steve? Steve is that you?" he asks, crouching in front of the little blond child.

"Steeb!" the kid crows delightedly, clapping their hands. Oh God.

 

*****

 

"I'm fucking serious, Nat," Bucky says, low and dangerous. "We know what fucking ray gun thing does now, it turns people into tiny fucking kids."

"Stop swearing," Nat chides lightly, and Bucky can hear the smirk in her voice. "There's a young'n about."

Bucky grinds his teeth, shooting a glance over at the couch, where he'd planted baby Steve and flipped to a kids channel on the TV. He's been enraptured since, and Bucky had taken the opportunity to try and parse this all together with someone's help.

His first choice had not been Natasha, but he doesn't really like talking to Tony, who speaks way too fast and in patterns that are hard to follow, he feels bad ever bothering Bruce, because he's so unobtrusive and would have dropped everything and rushed right over, whereas Bucky just needs to talk it out to someone right now, try to attach some sort of reality to the situation. He doesn't feel like he's calm enough to be able to sign with Clint, and Thor's away, visiting Jane.

So no, Nat hadn't been his first choice, but she is probably the best one.

"He's so small and I don't want to fuck anything up," Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair and rooting around in the cupboards for the Cheerios he knows they've got somewhere.

"Bucky, you've been looking out for this guy since the twenties. You'll be fine," Natasha says, softer now. "You're gonna need to go shopping, though, and soon. You can't really do anything outside until he's got a proper coat."

She's right, and Bucky knows it, but it's something he's been trying to avoid thinking about. "I don't have a car seat, though, I can't even drive him anywhere."

"Hmm," Natasha thinks on that for a second, and Bucky pours some Cheerios into a bowl, along with a small glass of milk, because he's not sure about how much Steve can handle at this stage and he doesn't want to risk him choking.

"Ask Stark." Bucky raises his eyebrows at that. "Seriously?" "Yeah," she says, and he can tell just by her tone that she's about to hang up. "He was looking into ways to make car seats safer, for a bit. He's probably got a couple he can let you have."

"Thanks," he says, and then he's left with a dial tone. He tosses his phone onto the counter lightly, and the sound makes Steve turn around to look at him. He's got half his hand stuffed in his mouth, looking content, and Bucky smiles at him, pushing off the counter to bring him breakfast.

As soon as he's set the food on the coffee table, Steve is crawling over to him, leaving little wet patches from his hand on the sofa as he goes, and clambering up onto Bucky's lap. He looks up at Bucky, and Bucky sucks in a quick breath, disarmed momentarily by how goddamn adorable he is like this, blond hair tousled and skin soft, blue eyes so wide and young, cheeks so round and smile so trusting.

"Hungry?" he asks, feeling the stress that has been threatening to overwhelm him ebb away in the face of this. Apparently Steve really does love him no matter what, no matter who they are. Steve nods, still watching Bucky's face adoringly, but he takes the proffered bowl of cereal and starts munching away. He gets full on his own, before he's done the bowl, and then he points at the glass of milk.

"There you go, buddy," Bucky says as Steve gulps down the whole glass, and then picks him up, fitting him into the crook of his left arm, and puts the dishes away. "We've gotta get you some clothes, huh? We're gonna go out soon."

Steve clutches on to a piece of Bucky's hair, looking concerned. "You go?" he asks, quietly.

"No!" Bucky assures him, but Steve still looks hesitant, so he adds, "No, sweetheart, you and me are going to go out and buy you some clothes and toys. Sound good?" Steve nods his little head, putting his first two fingers into his mouth again and looking around as Bucky brings them into Steve's room. Steve wants to touch the walls, says they look soft, so Bucky obliges, hold him close to the wall and watches as Steve pets the paint.

They then have to find something for Steve to wear, which is the hard part. Bucky tries to make it fun, though, holding out shirts for Steve to choose from, and Steve deliberates, before shaking his head at every one, only because Bucky will toss the shirt at him so it covers his little body and it makes him shriek with giggles. When all of Steve's shirts are in a pile around Steve, Bucky plants his hands on his hips and looks at him. Steve watches him expectantly, still laughing a little, and Bucky tuts.

"What are we gonna do with you?" he asks, scooping him up and going to his own room, so that he can get dressed too.

"Dunno!" Steve singsongs a few times, before Bucky drops him on his own bed and tosses the shirt he'd worn to bed at him. Bucky rummages through his dresser for a shirt, some jeans and a hoodie, but he turns when he realizes that Steve's gone quiet.

"You good?" he asks the little bundle of limbs and fabric in the center of his bed, and watches as Steve pops out again, naked but fumbling for the shirt Bucky threw at him. "Hey, hey, not that one. That one's dirty, I slept in it all night."

Steve babbles something, still trying to figure out the top from the bottom of the shirt, and Bucky smiles fondly when he huffs at it, and then looks at Bucky helplessly.

"Here, we'll find something else," Bucky offers, reaching out to take the shirt, but Steve shakes his head and clutches it to his chest. "Come on, now, Stevie, don't be makin' trouble."

"Mine," Steve says shortly, and Bucky raises his eyebrows. "Mine!" he says it with more conviction now, and Bucky raises his hands in surrender.

"Can I give you another one to wear, though?" he asks, and Steve thinks about it for a bit. He decides that yes, Bucky can fashion some makeshift outfit out of a shirt of his, and Bucky literally thanks God that Steve seems to be at an age where he doesn't need to wear diapers. Steve holds on tight to Bucky's shirt as Bucky changes into his own clothes, and wraps it around Bucky's neck when he dips down to swoop Steve into his arms again.

He'd much rather have carried the little guy all the way to the kitchen, but Steve had insisted on walking, meaning that Bucky had to lean at an awkward angle to let Steve hold onto Bucky's fingers with his tiny hands. They get there eventually, Steve babbling semi-coherently with Bucky and making serious faces and nodding and making sounds of agreement when Steve pauses and looks up for an answer. He's probably just promised to buy him 20 toys and also make him pancakes for the rest of his life and a million other things, but he's sure Steve won't hold him to it, at least not once he's big again.

_Unless he never gets big again_ , he reminds himself, and he shuts down that train of thought immediately.

When they get to the kitchen, Steve demands to be put on the counter, so Bucky deposits him there and gives him a wooden salad tosser to chew on while he scrolls through his phone for Stark's number.

"What doing?" Steve asks around the utensil in his mouth, and Bucky smiles fondly, bumps their foreheads together softly.

"Gonna call Tony, see if we can get you a car seat," Bucky responds, and Steve scrunches up his face.

"No!" he cries, throwing the salad tosser away and balling his hands up into small fists. "No, no, no Tony!"

Bucky looks up and grins at him, at the way Steve's got his little arms crossed indignantly over his chest.

"I know, buddy," Bucky says, reaching out with his metal arm to poke lightly at Steve's soft stomach. "But we gotta get you some real clothes."

Steve doesn't look convinced, so as Bucky lifts the phone to his ear and waits for it to start ringing, he smiles at Steve, says, "We'll get you some cookies too, sound good?"

This makes Steve perk up. "Yes, please," he says, loosening his position slightly.

"That's my boy," Bucky smiles at him, and Tony picks up just as Steve giggles happily at Bucky's words.

"Bucky," Tony says, and he sounds distracted. "What's happening, my man?"

"Steve got de-aged or something," Bucky says, no beating around the bush and Steve wriggles forward at his name. Steve giggles as Bucky keeps going, "He's just a tiny little baby, isn't he? Just a tiny little man."

"Barnes," Tony says, and he sounds a little less distracted now. "Did you just pull out your baby voice?"

Bucky is silent in response, rolling his eyes commiserating at Steve, who rolls his as well when Stark just laughs and laughs.

Bucky feels warm in his chest; he's still Steve.

**Author's Note:**

> as you all may have guessed, this was written far before the release of ca:cw. i know movie tony is Mad at bucky. i know. i hate it too. i hope bucky's okay. fuvk.


End file.
